#12: On underachieving and overachieving

“Rith”, I pull aside the armorer, “I have a question about your group.”

“Yes, sir, whatever you’d like.”

“When I tried to get this expedition going, I couldn’t get the elders to spare more than seven dwarves. Yet here you are, a contingent of ten dwarves, coming of your own free will.”

“Yes, m’lord.”

“Well, why is this? Why did you all decide to come all this way to this new settlement?”

“Oh, it’s simple, m’lord.” She reaches behind her and pulls something out.

“Is that … a stone toy boat?”

“It is a replica of the toy boat our traders say they brought from your lands, crafted in these meager halls. News of this toy boat spread across the Mountainhomes, and soon many were clamoring to come settle in your lands.”

“A toy boat.”

“I had to wait in line for 3 days just to purchase this replica. The original was enshrined, and the line to just get a glimpse of it wraps around four different caverns.”

I stared at the bald woman, dumbfounded.

“Do not doubt it for a moment. This is why we are here.” And with a nod, she returned to her labors.

Back to work accomodating all these dwarves:

• I designate some more beds to be installed in the barracks. I still keep a few in reserve for when we build a real housing section.
• I queue up more tables and chairs for the dining room.
• I build a Clothier’s Workshop so we can make bags to store seeds in.

Feb, the miner, Sleepy’s lover, and cat aficionado, gets a treat.

Bim, the cat, adopts Feb. Note that it’s not the other way around. Well I’m sure deep in the dangerous mines is a great place for cat.

Meanwhile, Santa has taken a lover.

It’s Steenky. They’re the two most powerful dwarves in the fortress, so power couple indeed. At least this time it’s cross-profession. Farmer and crafter. If they had a kid, I might be inclined to make it a noble some day.

Some firsts:

• Butchered animal fat gets rendered into tallow (no idea what I do with that)
• Smelted hematite ore turns into iron bars which are turned into iron picks, crossbows, anvils, and weapons
• A mountain goat skin is tanned and turned into mountain goat leather, which is turned into a bag to store seeds

They grow up so quick.

The pet cow calf that Sparky brought with him has grown up into a Bull. Now I know that I can’t slaughter a pet without Sparky going crazy (and who wants a pyromaniac going insane?), so I’m not sure what’s going to become of Rovod the Bull.

And the moo did follow, wherever he went (to burn wood).

Uh-oh, here we go.

Winter is upon you. Bring it. I got busy busy dwarves.

Let’s recognize a great dwarf.

Feb, in spite of her lover Sleepy and her cat Bim, has become a 10th rank miner, an “Accomplished Miner”, and is the first dwarf of the fortress to achieve such a rank. Next closest is Bembul the 8th rank angry woodcutter and Snipey the 8th rank badass marksdwarf. I’m sure Sleepy appreciates that she’s “extremely agile”.

Feb doesn’t miss a beat and keeps digging the new routes to the farming area. The stone from this excavation will be used to build walls around the farms.

But it’s time for a team break.

“Mason team, gather round.” The dusty foursome of Santa, Rith, Uvash, and Zon tiredly give me their attention.

“For many months I have been requesting stone doors, tables, chairs. We need many of them. Instead, you have been indulging yourselves with the other available tasks. You put turtle shell spikes on a stone mug, for god’s sake.”

“Have you not seen how much stone is laying around? Everywhere? And how several rooms don’t have doors? Hello? Pay attention, Uvash! Masonry. At the Masonry Workshop. Snap to it.”

“Farming Team, get in here!” And now the faces of Steenky, Big Fath, Sparky, and newly drafted Bembul are before me, grizzled and hairy.

“Ok guys, cute prank. All of you, but Bembul, are also assigned to brewing duty. I see what you did. We no longer have any plants to eat! You turned it all into booze. Zero plants. Two-hundred jugs of alcohol.” They can tell I’m serious.

“Thankfully, I was smart enough to bring some meat with us, and Snipey is out there putting her ass on the line to make sure there’s still meat to eat. Meanwhile, while you were brewing this ungodly amount of alcohol, what’s gone on at the farms?”

“NOTHING, that’s what. I see two plots planted, out of more than one-hundred possible patches. And don’t tell me it’s the seeds. All that brewing left us with plenty of seeds. Hundreds of them. Santa fucking counted them by hand.”

“I don’t want to hear about your sore backs, or your prickled fingers, or the rain, or being accosted by terrible vermin. I want your asses out there planting prickle berries, plump helmets, cave wheat, and whatever the hell else I’ve designated.”

“MOVE!!“

I catch my poor haulers as they scurry about.

“Fatty, Chubby, Kol. If you get a chance, see if you can’t plant something in the farms. This is your chance to make it big, to graduate out of your dead-end hauler caste. Don’t blow it. I’m not sure you’ll ever get another opportunity like this.” Of course, this is a lie. I need my haulers right where they are. Poor, subjugated, and hauling.

And the expanded farming team seems to listen. Six plots of Prickle Berries and five plots of underground Dimple Cups are planted.

Rith exhausts our raw hematite ore supply making iron bars; hopefully we’ll find more soon. I make sure I get a few anvils out of the iron in case I need to build more Metalsmith’s Forges before I strike another metal ore.

It’s tired in here.

That’s seven dwarves all sleeping at once in the barracks. Three spare beds. I’m hoping that’s enough until I get the real quarters dug out.

Of course, my diggers aren’t doing much better than the Masons and Farmers at getting the important work done. I asked for an exploratory set of stairs down many many floors, but nothing’s been done. It helps that the dining room is finally finished getting its floor smoothed… I hope.

Oh noes!

“Thief! Protect the hoard from skulking filth!” Right as I was about to get a drawbridge built (well, started…), there’s a kobold!

Fuck you, kobold! I won’t let you steal our precious claystone mugs with turtle shell spikes!

I draw up a battle plan.

Snipey can shoot a groundhog from a hundred paces; the kobold should make his time. I also draft the three miners (tough and have picks) and Bembul (angry and has axe) into temporary military service. The kobold has a large copper dagger and a leather tunic. The three miners are inside, Snipey is outside with Bembul right behind him.

KAPOW!

Just like that, Lor, one of Snipey’s hunting dogs who happened to be right there when the kobold arrived, springs into action. The poor musk-ox who was standing there scurries away faster than I could have imagined it could move.

And the kobold’s left upper leg is bruised, it’s head minorly injured and it’s knocked unconscious!

The dogs pounce and make quick work of the unconscious kobold!

Left behind on the square that Lor attacked from is a kobold chunk and his right lower arm.

Lor stands over his kill. Fuck yeah!

Good dog!!! Goooood dog!!

I release the dwarves from their military enlistment, and it’s back to another day in the fortress.